Monthly Archives: March 2012

Where the Magic Happens

And then it happened.

We ACTUALLY ENTERED ESCROW ON THE DREAM HOUSE. The short sale (oh, the irony of that term) has come through.

Now, as any good superstitious nutjob will tell you (and I am one), it’s still not TECHNICALLY over. But since we already know this house ain’t no cherry (although it may fool in pictures), we’re ready to share some photos with you. The likelihood of us learning anything worse in the inspections than we already learned from the seller’s disclosures is — KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK ON WOOD — probably not likely. So here goes…

We’ve been house hunting for about nine months now, and we’ve seen a lot of houses… Several AFTER the seller approved our offer on this one, actually. Several that we offered on, even after we knew this short sale was in the works. But none of them came through, and we were always relieved. We didn’t actually try that hard, because we knew this house would be ours eventually. We wanted it to be, with its bad foundation, outdated sewer lateral, aging roof, and depressing pest report. We asked for ridiculous concessions to help pay to fix all that. We had to wait through approval from the seller’s TWO mortgage holders, making the process doubly ridiculous. But we knew they were going to give it to us.

This was not like the eleventy jillion other East Bay houses we saw. Almost a hundred years old, perched there on a cracked foundation on the sunniest hillside in Oakland, on 6,000 square feet of terraced yard for Sammypants, with a converted open floorplan on the main floor and a view overlooking the entire Bay Area — this was a house for the Temples. The daughter of an engineer/granddaughter of a residential contractor + the son of a real estate agent/stepson of a commercial contractor. Two artists, two do-ers, two project people, one dog who needs a doggy door.

Welcome to Casa Temple — the two-story edition. Continue reading

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Haz Justicia

Immediately after writing in my first post…

“…here I am, setting up our new blog. Where I’m going to focus on worthy things in our lives (if not always good), while staying out of the Facebook slipstream. But until “D-Day,” I’ll probably just muse about the pain of getting off Facebook…”

… I thought to myself…

“…OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD THAT IS LAME. PLEASE DO NOT END UP USING THIS THING TO PROSELYTIZE ABOUT QUITTING FACEBOOK.”

So I swearsies, guys, I’ve been trying to avoid that, and instead slowly acclimate you all, dear readers, to the state of our lives: where we are with leaving the city, buying the house, raising the Sammypants, etc.

And also the stuff that makes us us.

So here’s a little something that makes Lisa, Lisa. It’s the highlight of my week so far, and I think it might inspire me to create a “highlights” category for posts, and try to think of, or LIVE, a highlight every week worth sharing.

{{{SCOOBY DOO EFFECT}}}

Continue reading

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Like Father, Like Dog

I came to a startling realization yesterday.

My dog looks like my husband.

For visual evidence of this fact, consult picture, below:

Trent and Sam

Trent and Sammypants, on our kitchen floor.

Continue reading

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Go East

Recently we decided to move to Oakland from San Francisco, where we’ve both lived for a good while now. And deciding to move anywhere in the East Bay (that’s where Oakland is) from San Francisco is big.

When I moved to San Francisco from Detroit, that was nothing. I just packed up and went. No one questioned why I would leave a place like Detroit for one like SF.

I just realized that westward moves always seem inherently positive to us ‘Mericans. But what about when you go in the other direction? That’s going back. Backward. Who goes east, my child? Continue reading

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I Eat Exceptional Pretzels, Damnit!

Officially ten days left until I’m off Facebook for good. I have now shared this blog with the world (at least, the people I know in it).

Last night I told my mom I was quitting the blue drug. I felt I needed to, since I set her up with HER Facebook page. She doesn’t really know how to use it, and therefore continually asks me to help her with it, even three years later. She of all people needed to know I was moving on to a Facebook-free existence.

Munga on Facebook

Munga the day I created her Facebook page. We never made much more progress.

She was happy. She said, of course, what I expected an almost-60-year-old to say. “I don’t like that you have so much private information out there for the whole world to see.”

Not surprising.

Then she said something I didn’t expect… Continue reading

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